


Do Not Disturb

by fickle_fics



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hotel Sex, grey white
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fickle_fics/pseuds/fickle_fics
Summary: On the last night of the party conference Malcolm Tucker meets wannabe journalist Grey White in the bar, after an 'interesting' conversation he ends up in her hotel room, but what should be a one night stand turns into more against his better judgement.
Relationships: Malcolm Tucker/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Do Not Disturb

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Small Fandom Big Bang on Dreamwidth.
> 
> I'm pretty rusty so please forgive me while I get back into writing them again.
> 
> Art here - tiggeratl1.dreamwidth.org/872.html by the amazing tiggeratl1 on dreamwidth. Thank you so much for the incredible art.

“Fuck me, why did you never mention the fact Malcolm Tucker’s so unbelievably hot in the flesh,” Grey asked, turning her head closer to Angela so only she’d hear the question.

Angela didn’t say anything for a moment, largely because she was trying to work out if Grey was joking or not. “Because he isn’t?” she offered sounding uncertain..

“Oh yeah, right, not your type, you prefer them a bit more rodenty, don’t you?”

“Are you talking about Ollie? Ollie is _not_ rodenty.”

Grey smirked. “Then how did you know that’s who I meant?”

She didn’t answer. “Yes, well, _anyway_ if anyone asks where you got your press pass from you don’t mention my name, got it?”

“Would you like me to stop talking, and standing next to you as well?”

“In an ideal world, yes, actually. Adam’d kill me!”

“We’re in a hotel room, there’s really not that far to go, but maybe I _should_ move, bit closer to the fucking hot Spin Doctor in the tux, yeah? Why not?”

“And if you get thrown out or arrested we don’t even know each other, okay?”

“I’m joking,” Grey protested. “I’d feel like a traitor anyway, fucking the guy behind the Labour party. Actually I do feel a bit bad even thinking about it. It’s like fancying the villain, isn’t it? Mind you the bad guys are generally way cooler dressed.”

“Grey,” Angela hissed as Glen shot them a funny look.

“Okay. If anything goes down we’ve never met.”

“Then will you _please_ stop talking to me!”

Grey had somehow managed to keep her head down at the drinks thing she’d followed Angela to, despite the fact, as she’d pointed out, it was only in a pretty small hotel room. Malcolm had given her the odd funny ‘who the fuck are you? What the fuck are you doing here?’ look but she’d legged it before he could ask any questions. And now she’d found herself downstairs in the hotel bar paying way too much for bourbon and trying to avoid being chatted up or questioned by any of the advisors or ministers that were hanging around trying to look like people who actually knew what to do with a bit of time off.

An hour later and Grey was still in the hotel bar contemplating going back to her room when Malcolm approached and was sitting opposite her in the booth before she could say much, not that she would have, for various reasons. Strictly speaking this was more practice than anything, and the fact she wasn’t exactly an experienced journalist and thus absolutely no threat or consequence was exactly why Angela had agreed to try and get a press pass for her in the first place, so she could see what it was like at the forefront of politics. Turned out it was pretty boring, but then Malcolm Tucker had shown up wearing a tux and it had taken a more interesting, if completely unrelated, turn.

And now he was sitting across from her, looking deeply suspicious but still pretty shaggable she had to admit. And now she wasn’t entirely sober, which probably wasn’t the best thing considering. He was trying to find out who the fuck she was, she knew, but still the reason didn’t matter. Malcolm fucking Tucker was sitting opposite her and she was just drunk enough to be completely honest with him, about some things at least.

“You’re new,” he said pointing what seemed like an extraordinarily long finger at her. “So who are you with? The Standard? The Guardian? Some online piece of shit? You’ve got the look of a blogger about you.”

“More freelance,” she told him. Which wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Okay, but you must have a fucking...preferred publication. Must’ve sold more stuff to one rag than another.”

“Not really,” she said carefully.

Without a word Malcolm leaned forward and for one bourbon addled moment Grey thought he was going to kiss her, only instead he reached for the pass around her neck and squinted at it.

“This a fake?” he asked.

“No,” she told him.

“But you’re not an actual _real_ journalist, are you?”

“Not for any papers or anything no,” she conceded. 

“Then how the fuck have you got that?” he asked,nodding to the pass.

“Ways?” she offered, clearly well aware that was no kind of answer.

“Give some hack a blowie for a lend of it, darling?” he asked, smirking at her.

“I’ve got a friend.”

“Well fucking good for you, darling!” 

“I _mean_ that’s how I got it,” she replied, audibly rolling her eyes.

“Name,” he demanded.

“No fucking way,” she replied. “Look I’m not doing any harm. I just wanted to see what it was like, okay? Behind the scenes at a party conference, I thought it might be interesting.”

Malcolm scoffed at that.

“I know, right.” She reached for her drink and took a gulp. She was just drunk enough, just out of town enough to not really care much about what was appropriate right now or about having any future career in journalism. “Still, wasn’t a complete waste of time,” she admitted.

“No?”

Grey smiled. “You look good in that tux, Mister Tucker,” she told him.

Again he scoffed. “Right, I’ve worked out you’re not a proper journalist so you’re trying to get round me with what? Dodgy seduction?”

“It’s the last day of the conference, what difference does it make now? I’m just saying you look good in that tux, cos you do.”

“is this a sting?” he asked. “Some kind of fucking...honeytrap or something? Because you do know I’m not married, don’t you? And any scandal you might try and rake up will only make me fucking _bury_ you and whatever wank rag you try and sell your story to?”

Grey sat back in the booth instantly. “Jesus,” she hissed, mostly to herself.

“Think I’d be an easy target? Cos I’m getting on a bit? _Please_! Pick another fucking idiot to dupe, I’ll still fucking end your career before it’s even begun!” he spat.

Grey pulled the pass from around her neck and threw it on the table between them. “Really not that kinda woman,” she told him. “I just thought you were kinda hot, and I’m kinda drunk so…” she shrugged. “Just thought I’d mention it.”

“I don’t fuck hacks,” he told her. “Especially not pretend ones that look like they’re fucking Newsround Press Packers.”

Grey shifted her gaze from him and Malcolm laughed.

“Oh my god, you were a fucking Press Packer, weren’t you?” he asked.

“‘I’ve always really wanted to be a journalist, okay?”

“Oh that is fucking _classic_! Jesus, I bet you even have it on your fucking CV. don’t you?”

“It’s not like it’s listed in my fucking experience. I just mentioned it in my ‘about me’ bit.” Frowning she took a drink of her bourbon and coke. She’d never felt more ridiculous in her entire life. Was it really that bad? She thought it proved the fact this was the only thing she’d ever wanted to do, but now she really wasn’t sure. Then again that was Malcolm all over, wasn’t it? He liked to make people feel small, she heard all the rumours.

Malcolm was still laughing at her, which she had to admit was definitely killing her earlier desire to sleep with him, which was probably just as well.

“I got to meet Blair when I was ten,” she said feebly. It had always seemed quite impressive to her, but now it just seemed stupid.

“And what did you think of him?” he asked.

“I found him a bit patronising actually,” she conceded. “but still.”

“And yet here you are at the party conference,” he pointed out

“As an impartial journalist.”

He scoffed at the very idea. “So you have absolutely no political leanings of your own then?” he asked.

“You wanna know about my political leanings?” she asked feeling a little more confident now they were no longer talking about fucking Newsround. “I support the Lib Dems, actually.”

“Yeah,” he said nodding as he looked across at her. “You have that look.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I mean look at you. No offence darling but...you don’t look very professional. Honestly when I first saw you I thought you’d slipped past security. I was waiting for you to pull out a banner and start a fucking protest!”

“Maybe I have, maybe I’m just biding my time. Maybe tomorrow when everyone’s together, on their way out that’s when I’ll start. Or maybe you were right, maybe I _am_ a honeytrap!”

Malcolm laughed again and eyed her. “If someone was setting a honeytrap for me I highly doubt they’d send a fucking teenager wearing Doc Martens and an ill fitting shirt to do it.”

“I’m twenty five,” she protested, glancing down at her t-shirt. It wasn’t ill fitting, it was oversized, and it wasn’t like she’d been wearing it in the hotel room but she fucking hated button up shirts, she never felt like she could breathe in them.

“Got any ID?” he asked.

Grey rolled her eyes. “if you think I’m such a mess why the fuck are you even still sitting here?”

“That’s a very good question,” he admitted. “I suppose I’m sitting here because I wanted to find out who the fuck you were and if you wanted to fuck me as much as it looked like you did at that fucking meet and greet thing earlier. No wait, actually that’s not right. I wanted to work out how good an actress you were and what exactly it was you hoped to achieve by looking at me the way you were.”

“You really think I’m trying to fuck the party by seducing you?” she asked. “Cos y’know you’re not the only man in the party, right? If that was what I was doing I could’ve tried for a minister or someone with less of a reputation for being fucking terrifying? One of your aides? Oliie Reeder maybe?. And as you’ve already pointed out I’m not exactly dressed for seduction, am I?”

“So what would you be wearing if you were?” he asked. Fuck it. Like she’d said it was the last night of the conference, he didn’t actually have much else to be doing so why not just sit here and play along? It was just a game, he was sure of that, but as long as he remembered there was no harm in seeing how far she’d go, was there?

“Are we seriously playing the ‘what are you wearing?’ game?” she asked. She dipped her head, blushing. Fuck she hoped he didn’t notice that, but she’d never been much good at this kind of thing, the sexy talk, not that that was even what this was, fuck, she had no idea what this was, beyond Malcolm Tucker reminding her she was nothing and he was running a number of fucking countries. Fuck it, just be honest! Play along, hope you at least keep him amused enough that he doesn’t just leave, because what else was she gonna do tonight? Go back to her hotel room and wank over the image of him in a suit probably. “I have no fucking clue,” she admitted, raising her head to look at him. “I think we’ve both established I’m not the seductive type. I wouldn’t even know where to start. My idea of dressing up tends to involve rips and chains.”

“Whips and chains?”

“ _Rips_ , rips and chains,” she said more carefully, trying very hard not to smile.

Okay that wasn’t completely fucking embarrassing at all.

“Wishful thinking, Mister Tucker?”

“You fucking wish, darling.”

“Not really,” she admitted. “Never really got into the whole bondage, S and M thing, people being tied down and all that. I like being touched too much, and the thrill of seeing someone _desperate_ to touch you fades pretty fucking quickly when you want it just as much.”

Malcolm was staring. He was trying hard not to but he was, he knew he was. She had just said that. hadn’t she? He hadn’t just imagined it? _Jesus_! He got the feeling he might actually be kind of out of his depth right now, that she was definitely going to win this game and he was going to be walking out of here awkwardly which a massive fucking hard-on!

If she’d been any better at this kind of thing she might have taken advantage of his reaction, as it was she just wanted to change the subject. “Anyway, another drink? I’ll even treat you to a J2O, “ she said.

“I’ll get them, I can get them to put it on my tab.” He shuffled to the edge of the booth and realised he wasn’t quite as flaccid as he’d like to be. “Actually,” he said, turning back to her. “Yeah why don’t you get them, I’d hate to be accused of being sexist or anything, but it’s room 414, if you’re putting it on my tab.”

“Do you want a J2O then?” she asked as she got up, downing her drink as she did.

“Aye go on then, you only live once, right?”

“So, you don’t drink?” she asked as she slid in opposite him again, slightly surprised he was still there. Then again he’d given her his room number so maybe he wasn’t completely trying to get rid of her.

“You managed to work that out by me not drinking, well done. I can see why John Craven liked you.”

“I just thought you would,” she said.

“What because I’m Scottish? Cos you know that’s a form of racism, don’t you, darling?”

“I was more thinking because you do a really stressful job actually.”

“Right, well I prefer to keep a clear head. Never know when I’m gonna be needed, especially at times like this. I’m just fucking waiting for a call telling me Swain’s been picked up for fucking curb crawling or something. And if anything like that makes it into the papers I _will_ ruin you life,” he warned.

“I’m not here for that sort of thing. Scandal and all that tabloid bollocks does nothing for me. Actually it makes me fucking sick.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Other than for your famous charm and how good you look in a tux? If you’re really interested I’m working on a piece about women in top tier politics. All that dirty laundry stuff, it doesn’t interest me. You could tell me half your party pay rent boys and I wouldn’t be interested, as long as they’re paying for it out of their own pockets.”

“Shame you don’t have a paper. Cos you know no one cares about fucking _think_ pieces, not from some fucking freelancer.”

“Maybe you could put a good word in somewhere?” she suggested hopefully.

Malcolm shook his head. Well she had balls he had to give her that, and morals too, that was something, “You basically broke into my party conference I should have you kicked out, never mind me helping you!”

Grey frowned at that. “Look, I’m not doing any harm, yeah? Shouldn’t you be encouraging me using my initiative? Doesn’t it show how much I care about this stuff?”

“I try not to encourage people to become hacks, just causes me a bigger headache down the line, not that I’m too worried about you bothering me in the future if I’m honest.”

“Am I bothering you now then?”

Malcolm didn’t answer that question right away, because actually she wasn’t. This was the closest he’d got to a nice, normal conversation in years, although he wasn’t sure he could call it normal exactly. “Not especially,” he conceded.

She smiled a bit at that, quickly reaching for her drink in the hopes she could hide it with the glass..

“Still don’t get why you want to be sitting here with me though,” he admitted. “Cos you know you’re wasting your time if you want me to fuck you, right?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Although if we’re being technical I was kinda into the idea of fucking you, small but key difference.”

Malcolm smirked, shaking his head. “Seriously, darling, what are you hoping to achieve with all this bollocks?”

“Not much, an orgasm hopefully, getting to shag someone I think’s hot. Honestly I’m a pretty simple girl when it comes down to it.”

“Okay, let’s say you’re serious for a moment, how do I know I can trust you not to sell a kiss and tell to the tabloids? You seem pretty keen to get your foot in the door.”

“Cos no one’s gonna publish something like that about the man that controls the media, especially not from someone like me, my tits aren’t big enough to interest rags like that, y’know? Plus you’re not married so does it really mater if we did have sex? Also I’ve got morals, but that’s probably not something you’re gonna believe, right?”

“You’ve more than twenty years younger than me, darling, that’s enough of a selling point to people like that. As for the morals, well better to be safe than sorry with those kinds of claims, you know?”

“Whatever,” Grey snapped, wincing at how she sounded. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, reaching for her drink again and bringing it to her lips only to find she’d already finished it. “I’m gonna go,” she said. “This is….fucking pathetic. I’m into you, Malcolm, I mean sure on a purely physical level cos well...come _on_ , but I’m not gonna try and talk you into anything cos that’s fucking weird and creepy and I’m not desperate.” She shook her head and stood up. “I’m in room 215 if you have a change of heart,” she added. “But if you wake me up I’m gonna be pissed off, but it’s up to you, right? I’m not gonna sell a fucking story, I’m not using you to get….fucking anything. I think you’re hot but that’s it. Night, Malcolm,”

He watched as she left, awkwardly the lift up to the rooms was literally inside the bar so she’d barely walked ten feet and was still standing more or less right in front of him. He looked at his bottle of juice, it wasn’t often he wished he still drank but this was one of those times. Things like this were much easier with alcohol in your veins, something to make you a bit reckless, a bit impulsive. She didn’t seem like she was fucking with him even if it did make no sense. There was a significant part of him that wanted to stride across the bar and get into the lift with her, let her take him to her room and do whatever the fuck she wanted with him, but before he could move the lift pinged open and she was gone, without so much as a look back in his direction.

Grey knew she should just go straight to bed, that any thoughts of Malcolm Tucker following her up to her hotel room were nothing but a fantasy. What the fuck did she think she was doing? This was no way to start a career in journalism, but she was a bit drunk and bit horny and _fuck_ he looked good in that tux!

“Twat,” she muttered to herself as she undressed, changing into a matching black vest and short set and grabbing her laptop, torn between trying to get a bit of work done and just watching porn. She wished she’d got herself another drink before she’d called it a night because right now she was feeling horribly sober and she really wasn’t in the mood for that. Maybe she could sneak back down, maybe Malcolm wouldn’t be there anymore, was it really worth the risk though? She already felt like a fucking idiot. She wasn’t normally quite so forward, okay that was a lie, but she was normally that forward in very dark clubs with much more alcohol in her bloodstream and towards people that weren’t incredibly important.

Shaking her head at her life choices Grey decided to call it a night. Which was when there was a knock at the door. Her heart raced as she quickly checked how bad she looked in the full length mirror by the door before opening it with a smile.

It was Angela.

Grey tried not to look too disappointed.

“Expecting someone?” she asked as she walked inside. “Aren’t I the only person you know here?”

“Yeah,” Grey conceded, looking out onto the corridor just in case. She knew he wasn’t coming, but if he was it seemed entirely likely he’d show up when Angela was here, sod’s law and all that. “Course you are,” she added as she closed the door. “So not to be a prick or anything but what are you doing here, at fucking...midnight.”

“I need the press pass back,” she explained. “I know one of us’ll forget tomorrow and if I don’t hand it back I’ll be in trouble, so can I have it?”

Grey went over to the little table by the bed, grabbing the pass and throwing it towards Angela.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “ _Are_ you expecting someone? Jesus, have you pulled? _Here_?”

“The place is full of press and ministers,” Grey pointed out, “hardly my type, and I’m hardly theirs.”

“Right,” Angela agreed, nodding. “Anyway none of this ever happened, right? Tomorrow you check out, get on the train and we never mention it again. _Don’t_ do anything to get me trouble.”

“As if!” Grey protested.

Angela shook her head. “Still don’t know why I did this,” she said as she let herself out.

It had been an hour. He wasn’t coming. Grey accepted that and decided to just go to bed and hope she didn’t bump into him in the morning. She couldn’t imagine that happening, she’d booked a late check out and she was sure Malcolm had important things to be getting back to. 

She’d been in bed twenty minutes when there was another knock at the door, by the time she’d got out of bed, found the light switch and opened the door there was no one there. Poking her head out of the room she saw Malcolm retreating down the corridor towards the lift.

“Malcolm!” she hissed, trying to be quiet enough that no one else would hear but loud enough that he would. Maybe he was listening out because he turned his head and looked at her.like he’d been caught doing something he really really shouldn’t.

For a moment he stayed exactly where he was, torn between going to his own room and hers. He’d come this far though, knocked on her door. It was too late now, wasn’t it?

“Were you sleeping?” he asked as he approached the door. “I didn’t mean to wake you, Really you just… go back to bed, let’s just forget this whole thing, yeah?”

“I was in bed, I wasn’t asleep,” she said, moving out of the way so he could step inside. When he didn’t move she rolled her eyes. “Are you a vampire or something? Come in!”

Closing the door behind him she edged past him and sat on the bed, suddenly feeling kind of awkward now he was actually here. The alcohol had left her system now and she was completely sober, and sitting there in her pyjamas, this really wasn’t how this was meant to go down.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood awkardly in the middle of the room looking down at her. “I should go, let you sleep, fucking stupid idea.”

As he rambled Grey stood, stepping forward to close the space between them, raising her chin to kiss him for just a second. “You took your time, coulda pulled someone else by now, that would’ve been awkward.” She smiled, reaching for his hand and kissed him again. “I’m glad you came, but it is kinda late so think we could skip the ‘I shouldn’t be here’ stuff and just fuck?”

“Long as you’re sure,” he said with a bit of a smile.

“Never been surer,” she replied, pulling off her vest and tossing it towards her case in the corner before moving onto his shirt, undoing it quickly and letting it fall to the floor. When she reached down for the fastening on his trousers Malcolm laid his hands over hers, stopping her. “Why don’t you just get back into bed and I’ll take off all this and join you?” he offered, taking over as she pulled her hands away, wriggling out of her shorts and getting back into bed, though she left the covers turned back, letting him see her laying there naked, waiting for him, 

It wasn’t as if he didn’t do things like this, he could be quite charming when he wanted to be, the thing was he hadn’t particularly wanted to be tonight because he needed to be in full Malcolm F Tucker bollocking mode just in case anyone stepped out of line. And yet she’d still been interested, She was also about twenty years younger than most of the women he slept with. Still now wasn’t the time to question all that, he’d done that downstairs, both while she’d been sitting with him and while he’d been alone giving himself a fun little lecture about all the reasons why he should just go to his room and maybe have a wank if his erection was going to be that insistent, He still wasn’t entirely sure what had possessed him to actually come to her room, but life was short and he’d only know if it was a massive mistake if his photo was all over the papers in a couple of days time.

With his clothes out of the way Malcolm slid into the bed next to her, pulling the duvet over them as she shifted onto her side, slipping her leg over his hip as she looked at him for a moment then kissed him again, curling in against his body as she deepened it, moaning softly against his lips. Her leg tightened around him as they kissed, one hand moving up into his hair as she rubbed herself slowly against him, feeling him growing harder as she did, encouraging her to press more firmly against him as she tugged gently at his hair.

“You can get involved if you want,” she said as she broke the kiss. “Or were you planning on me doing all the work, not against it just if that is the plan I’m gonna need to know, yeah?”

“No, no, sorry,” he shook his head and let his hand run down her side to the thigh over his hip. “Just talking my body a second to catch up with what’s happening,” he admitted.

Smirking Grey glanced down at his semi-hard penis and raised her eyebrow at him.

“Okay, not that bit _obviously_ , but you know cocks, mind of their own.”

“And it doesn’t look like it’s letting much blood get to your brain, huh?” she asked, biting her lip. He was definitely bigger than she’d imagined then again what was it they said about guys with big hands?

Malcolm chuckled at that. “Not too much of a disappointment then, darling?”

“Can I get back to you on that later?” she asked. “Once I know if it’s just for show?”

He laughed again, leaning in to kiss her as he hiked her leg a bit higher and started to press himself back against her. “Definitely not just for show,” he said against her lips.

“So prove it,” she said, wrapping her other leg around him, as she ran her hand down his body, wrapping her hand around him to stroke him to his full length.

“Someone’s impatient,” he growled, following her lead and slipping his hand between her legs, groaning low in the back of his throat at how wet she was. “Jesus,” he muttered, “It’s like the fucking Titanic down there.”

“Going down, Malcolm?” she asked.

“That what you want? Only I was starting to get the impression you didn’t give much of a fuck about foreplay.”

“You got me,” she said. “Kinda just want a shag, maybe if you hadn’t made me wait an hour…” she trailed off, shifting slightly to get into a better position, the tip of his cock pressing against her. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Fuck,” Grey panted, her hand smoothing down Malcolm’s back as she tried to catch her breath, 

Lifting his head from her shoulder he smiled slowly, breathing heavily himself. “You can say that again,” he said breathlessly, leaning in to kiss her for a second before shifting off her and on to his side, moaning as he withdrew.

Placing her hand over her heart she turned her head to look at him. “Fuck,” she breathed, feeling her heart hammering against her hand. “That was...really fucking good.”

“No need to sound so surprised, got to be some advantages in getting on.”

“How old are you anyway?” she asked, turning to face him.

“Isn’t it a bit late to be asking that?” he replied. “Old enough to know what I’m doing, too old to be doing it with girls I pick up in bars.”

“I picked you up,” she reminded him, edging closer.

“Oh well in that case guess it’s okay, isn’t it?” Smirking he slipped his arm over her shoulder, his leg brushing against hers. 

“Regretting it?” she asked.

“Does it look like I’m regretting it? Trust me darling if I was I’d be in the lift by now. This is…” he trailed off trying to find the word to describe it. “Nice,” he laughed. “Jesus, I couldn’t even think of the word ‘nice’ if that doesn’t tell you everything about my fucking life I don’t know what does,”

“I was aiming for more than nice.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, darling, like you said the sex was really fucking good. _Really_ fucking good, but just lying here…” he shrugged. “Ignore me, coming that hard must’ve done something to my brain.”

“Not planning on making excuses and going back to your room then?”

I wouldn’t bother making excuses,” he admitted. “I’d just say bye and leave. But if you’re okay with me staying, can’t remember the last time I spent the night with someone else, fuck, you must think I’m patheric.”

Shaking her head Grey moved closer still and leaned in to kiss him. “Just busy, But I’m good with you staying.”

“I should warn you, I probably snore.”

She shrugged, turning as she reached to pull his arm around her. “After that think putting up with you snoring’s the least I can do.” Turning her head she kissed him one more time. ”Course I might too.”

***

When Grey woke up it took her a moment to remember where she was and what had happened the night before. When she did she instinctively rolled over to find Malcolm but instead found only cold sheets. Opening her eyes she sat up and looked around, there was no sign of him, no clothes, nothing. Leaning across the bed she checked her phone - 8.30am, way too early to be awake. Still she couldn’t shake the vague feeling of disappointment even though she’d known last night she wouldn’t be waking up next to him. Malcolm Tucker was a busy man after all, and she’d pretty much offered herself up for a one night stand, she couldn’t be annoyed at him, could she? She’d known what to expect. She just wished he hadn’t just snuck out without a word, but it wasn’t like he owed her anything, she just wouldn’t have minded another round. “Fuck it,” she muttered to herself, letting herself fall back down into the bed, curling up in the duvet as she closed her eyes. It was his loss.

A couple of hours later her alarm rang, waking her again, only this time she had no option but to get up and get out. She should have packed the night before, only she’d been a bit too distracted by Malcolm for that to even enter her head, so now she had half an hour to pack, dress and make herself look a bit more human. Luckily she didn’t have too much with her and her method of packing was basically throwing everything into a bag and dealing with it on the other end. While she got her things together she noticed a small card by the kettle and biscuits, easily ignored but she was pretty sure it hadn’t been there before. As soon as she picked it up she saw Malcolm’s name printed on the front along with his personal contact details. If she’d found it on the floor she’d have thought it had just fallen out of his pocket, but where it was suggested otherwise. Picking it up she felt her heart beat a bit faster and felt like a total idiot as she turned the card over and found a handwritten message on the back -

_Sorry I had to run off, didn’t want to wake you. Thanks for last night. Malcolm x_

It wasn’t much but it was something. Plus it had his mobile number on it, not that she had any intention of getting in touch. Last night had been pretty amazing, but she knew better than to get involved with someone like him.

**Two weeks later**

 _You seem to have sent me a topless picture of yourself_

 _Fuck, sorry that was totally meant for some other powerful, angry Scot I know_

 _You know I could have you done for sexual harassment, don’t you? This isn’t very feminist of you. Sending unwanted tit pics._

 _Okay. Sorry, Like really, not taking the piss sorry. I’ve had a bit to drink. It seemed like a good idea at the time._

 _Will you fucking stop that! You can’t really think we’re doing this. Jesus do you really think I’m stupid enough to engage in fucking sexting with ANYONE?_

 _What if I sign a waiver? What if I promise if anyone finds out about this I’m just as fucked as you are?_

 _You could never be as fucked as I’d be. What the fuck have you got to lose?_

 _Can’t you go to prison for ignoring those kinds of things?_

 _You’re saying you’d go to prison for a bit of cyber sex? Jesus how hard up are you?_

 _I’m SAYING if that’s what it takes for you to trust me I’d sign it. Fuck Malcolm email it over and I’ll sign it right now._

 _You think I have that kind of legally binding document just knocking around, do you?_

 _Yeah actually. Surely you’ve made people sign them before so party members can have a bit on the side without too much worry._

 _I’m not sending you a Confidentiality Agreement, nutter!_

 _So what about the sexting? Were my tits that unwanted? Really?_

 _I could barely fucking see them. Had to zoom in just to make sure they were there._

 _You zoomed in though. You looked?_

 _I wanted to make sure it was what I thought it was. I don’t get many people sending me unsolicited pics like that_

 _But you’re drowning in solicited ones, right?_

 _Course. I’m drowning in gash down here, darling_

 _So I’m not interesting enough_

 _There are so many reasons I’m not getting into this_

 _Don’t make me beg. Cos that’s really not me, but I’m drunk and horny_

 _Flatterer_

 _For you. Horny. FOR YOU. Like I was in Eastbourne. Okay, don’t get into it. You don’t have to say a fucking word. I’d just really like you to know I’ve been thinking about you way too fucking much. Not just when I’m alone in bed with my hand between my legs. When I’m at work or on the metro. You wouldn’t believe how much I wanna fuck you again, Malcolm Tucker._

 _Why?_

 _Because?_

 _This isn’t fuckin philosophy 101. Why, Grey? Tell me._

 _Wanting your ego stroked?_

 _I just don’t fucking get it. Explain it to me._

 _Okay. I want to fuck you because you’re passionate, intelligent, enough of an arsehole to be interesting and incredibly fucking attractive to me. Not to mention I quite like the accent, bet you’d sound amazing whispering filth. And yes that is something I’ve thought about a bit too much._

 _Words are meaningless_

 _And forgettable?_

 _Are we quoting Depeche fucking Mode now?_

 _You started it!!!!!!_

 _You don’t want to fuck me again. This is fucking boredom and loneliness talking_

 _Which I’m sure you don’t identify with at all, right?.  
Come to Manchester. Find out._

 _Fuck off!_

 _Coward._

 _I told you, darling. It was a one off, I don’t do relationships. I don’t know why I left that card. Call it a moment of madness_

 _Who’s asking for a relationship? I just wanna fuck you again, that sinple._

 _What’s the matter with you? Can’t you get someone up there to fuck you?_

 _I could, I’m just not that interested cos I’ve not managed to meet anyone I’d rather fuck since that fucking conference. Not to be too full on but that was good, wasn’t it? I mean you seemed like you enjoyed it._

 _Yes it was good, but so what? Plenty of people have one night stands without it turning into more._

 _Right  
Sorry_

It was late, Malcolm really didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have time for anything that wasn’t work, so he didn’t reply to the last message, it was better that way, for both of them. He still didn’t really get it, okay he was pretty considerate in bed and he wasn’t stupid, he knew she’d had a good time, she hadn’t even tried to hide that, but so fucking what? That didn’t mean anything. But maybe that was it, it didn’t mean anything, not the way he had it in his head. With a sigh he reached for his phone and started to type.

 _I can’t come to Manchester. Too busy_

When she didn’t reply he sent another message.

 _Come to London?_

 _Seriously?_

 _Fuck it. Why not?  
I just have to be careful, My life’s not my own,_

 _I know. I get it. And I know I shouldn’t’ve even texted - like I said drunk and horny.  
And thinking about that night._

 _You think about it?_

 _Obviously or I wouldn’t’’ve sent that pic would I? There’s plentya guys in Manchester, guys I don’t have to talk into fucking me.  
Guy’s who don’t make me feel like I’m annoying them._

 _You’re not annoying me.  
Okay you are, but in a good way.  
I’ve thought about that night too. Just never expected to hear from you again. Figured you’d wake up and wonder what the fuck you did. Still don’t know what possessed me to leave my card_

 _Did wonder if it was all a dream for a second. Waking up on my own like that._

 _I’m an early riser, what can I say?_

 _I’d been hoping for round two_

 _Didn’t think I should wake you  
Didn’t want to see the regret_

 _Fuck off, Malcolm! CLEARLY no regrets. Other than waking up and you being gone.  
I’m glad you left your card. Woulda looked fucking pathetic turning up in Whitehall looking for you._

 _Good job I saved you from that embarrassment then. So London?_

 _When?_

 _Weekends are best for me. Maybe Friday night?_

 _What’s the plan? I come down one night for a quick shag?_

 _Wouldn’t have to be quick. If you don’t mind me working some of the time I could probably clear most of a weekend for you. Long as you don’t expect me to take you out or anything. No offence darling, but it’s not worth the hassle._

 _Some taken, but it’s cool...So what? A dirty weekend in a hotel while you spend half your time on your laptop?_

 _Pretty much. Still interested?_

 _Sadly yeah.  
Next weekend?_

 _I need to check a few things, make sure nothing’s coming up that’s likely to backfire and lead to me spending the weekend trying not to murder people. I’ll let you know, yeah?_

 _Okay. See you soon hopefully x_

***

Grey had been waiting to be asked to leave since the moment she’d sat down at the bar of the five star hotel Malcolm had booked them a room at. The place was full of people dressed in suits or expensive looking outfits and she was starting to get the feeling people were looking at her like nothing she owned, let alone was wearing, cost enough for her to possibly belong here. Grey checked her phone - 8.30pm, Malcolm had said he’d try to be there by 8 but that he might be late. She never should have left the details up to him, of course he’d pick somewhere _nice_ , he was a proper adult with a proper career and money, he didn’t do his shagging in Travelodges! Though maybe he would have if she’d suggested it, he’d have been way less likely to have been recognised somewhere like that. She was just about to order another ridiculously overpriced drink when a man approached her tentatively.

“Excuse me...miss, are you a guest here?” he asked.

“I’m waiting for someone,” she said, glancing at him before she turned her attention back to the bartender, hoping to catch his eye so she could order.

“Is this a specific someone or…” he trailed off and Grey turned to look at him again, her brows knitted in confusion.

“Yeah it’s a specific someone who the fuck…” she trailed off as her mind slowly caught up with what he was incinuating “Do you think I’m a hooker?” she asked.

“If you could keep your voice down a little? And perhaps give us the name of who it is you’re waiting for so we can check you’re in the right hotel?” he pressed.

She was pretty certain Malcolm wouldn’t want his name spread around like that, in fact she wasn’t even sure he’d booked the room under his name. “I… _no_! I won’t give you his name. Why should I?”

“As I said-” The man was cut off as Malcolm appeared in the bar, instantly going over to Grey and slipping his arm around her, kissing her on the cheek. “Problem?” he asked.

“Tell this guy I’m not a prostitute,” she said flatly.

Malcolm smirked. “Well if she is I’d better hope she takes plastic. No, no, she;s not a prostitute. So if you’d like to apologise to my friend here for implying as much I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a drink on the house to make up for it?”

“Mister Tucker, I do apologise-”

“The free drink?”

“Of course, what are you-”

“Bourbon and coke, double,” she said, turning away from him.

“And I’ll have a whiskey while we’re here, thanks.”

“Sorry, darling,” he said, his arm still round her. “I tried to get away but it’s like trying to extract yourself from a bunch of needy fucking toddlers. You okay?”

“He thought I was a hooker,” she pointed out.

“You could take it as a compliment. Something to fall back on when you fail as a journalist.”

“ _Malcolm_!”

“Okay, okay. I know, but look free alcohol!” he said, reaching over to grab the drinks as soon as they appeared, in the hopes of distracting her before this could become a _thing_. “I know how you feel about that.”

Rolling her eyes she took the drink. “Should’ve asked for a bottle.”

“I would, darling, but I was hoping to have you at least half sober if that’s okay?”

“Fine,” Grey said with a sigh. “Can we just...get out of here?”

“Well I’ve got a room upstairs currently going to waste if you want to head up. I was going to suggest we have dinner but we can always order room service, under the circumstances.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed, following him as he led the way to the lift.

“You want me to get him sacked?” Malcolm asked as they stood opposite each other in the lift. “I’m a very respected, important customer here, say the word and he’s gone.”

Grey shook her head. “It’s fine. You come here a lot then, do you? Only you gave the impression this wasn’t really your thing.”

“Jealous?” Malcolm asked, stepping forward and reaching for her hand.

She scoffed.

“That was years ago,” he said, “I really don’t have time for that kind of thing anymore.”

“Yet here you are,” she smiled.

“Aye, _well_ didn’t give me a lot of choice, did you? I had to get you off my case, didn’t I? And never let it be said Malcolm Tucker isn’t a giver.”

“Oh, I remember,” she assured him with a smirk.

“Oh I fucking bet you do, darling,” he growled, closing the space between them just as the door pinged open.

Malcolm glanced out of the lift to see if there was any sign of anyone on their floor then pulled Grey towards his room, fumbling with the keycard to get the door open.

“You’re keener than last time,” she said from behind him.

He turned his head to look at her. “Well this time I’m not surounded by fucking ministers and journos, plus now I know what I’m missing, don’t I?”

“Like what?” she asked as they stepped inside.

“Like those tiny, perky little tits of yours.”

“Maybe they’re not small, maybe you’ve just got really big hands,” she pointed out.

“What these things?” he asked, raising his hands in front of her face and waggling his fingers in a way that made her pulse race. 

She swallowed hard, making Malcolm smirk down at her, “Something wrong, darling?” he asked, slipping his arm back around her waist.

“No,” she said, though she knew she didn’t sound as sure of that as she wanted to.

Still smirking he leaned down to kiss her for a moment, before letting her go to place the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door.

“Glad I invited myself down then?” she asked, moving over to the bed and sitting down as she started to undo her boots, looking up at him rather than what she was doing.

He leaned back against the door, watching her .”Strictly speaking I invited you.”

“I invited you first, but you knew I wasn’t gonna drop it til you agreed to see me, right?” she laughed. “Fuck, I sound like a fucking stalker. Please don’t take a restraining order out on me.”

Laughing he pushed himself away from the door and strode over to her. “We’ll see how it goes,” he told her. “But trust me, darling, I’ve been followed by way more annoying people with no intention of letting me fuck them, not that I’d’ve wanted to. But to answer your question, yeah, I’m glad you talked me into this, I’m glad you’re here,”

“How glad?” she asked as she stood.

“Give me a minute or two and I’ll show you, hmmm?” he offered, kissing her quickly before he began to loosen his tie and take off his jacket, throwing it in the direction of the chair by the desk on the other side of the room, when it landed on the floor instead he shrugged, turning his attention back to her, his hand slipping below the hem of her t-shirt. “Can’t believe they thought you were a fucking whore, I mean look at you.”

Grey raised her eyebrow at him in warning.

“Oh come on, darling no business man’d fucking _dare_ chat you up, you look like you’d eat them for breakfast.” He smiled, his hand moving higher, the smile growing as he found she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. “It’s one of the things I like most about you, I like you like this, not playing fucking dress up and trying to look all professional. Reminds me of the old days back in Glasgow, dive bars playing punk music.” His thumb swiped across her nipple, making her breath catch. “Like this you remind me of my youth. Oh you’d’ve fucking loved me, darling. Right mouthy little prick, I was, but I was quite the looker even if I do say so myself.”

“Not exactly hideous now,” she pointed out.

“Well thank you, but trust me before the grey took hold...”

“Malcolm,” she said, kissing him for a moment. “Not that hard up, You’re fucking gorgeous, when I saw you in that tux it was like fucking….niagera falls in my knickers. I’m sure you were cool, and gorgeous when you were younger and I’’d’ve creamed myself for you, but y’know that’s never gonna happen, so why don’t we focus on now, yeah? When I’m still pretty into you, in reality.”

“Just wanted you to know I wasn’t always this.” He didn’t know why he cared, or why it mattered to him when it clearly didn’t matter to her, but for some reason he wanted her to know they weren’t quite as different as they seemed.

“There’s nothing wrong with _this_ ,” she pointed out. “ _This_ is why I’m here, in a fucking hotel I _clearly_ have no right being in. Bet a room here costs more than my month’s rent, but whatever, this is who you are, and I’m kinda here for it.” She reached down to pull off her top and threw it in the same general direction his jacket had gone. “You were taking too long,” she said by way of explanation. “Always keeping me waiting, aren’t you, Malcolm?”

“Yeah, but tell me I’m not worth it,” he smirked.

Grey laughed, shaking her head as she started to undo the buttons of his shirt. “The fucking ego on you.”

“In case you hadn’t heard I’m kind of important around here.”

“What, this hotel room?” she questioned, raising her eyebrow at him again. “Oh I dunno if you’re _that_ important!” 

The words were barely out of her mouth before Malcolm picked her up with a grunt, putting her back down on the bed and joining her quickly, his hands moving to the waistband of her jeans in the hopes she might stop talking for a second. “Lot of bravado from a woman that came all this way just to fuck me,” he said.

“You got me first class tickets, there was free wine, you _know_ how I feel about free booze.”

With a smirk Malcolm pushed her jeans down just enough to be able to get his hand between her legs. “You’re lucky I like my women mouthy,” he told her, his fingers brushing lightly against her folds.

Grey’s breathing changed instantly, growing deeper and slower with the effort it took to keep it together. “Aren’t I just?” she agreed, leaning up to catch his lips, kissing him hard and deep as his fingers explored her more, one slipping inside her with a moan into her mouth at the feel of how hot and wet she was already. Another quickly joined it, both curling inside her as he started to move his fingers agonisingly slow in and out, feeling himself getting harder as he did. She started to move, trying to fuck herself on his fingers til he pulled back, laying one hand gently on her hip, his thumb stroking along the bone.

“In a hurry, darling?” he asked.

Grey didn’t speak for a moment, He was still almost fully dressed, and far, far too calm. It made her want to push him onto his back and see if she could make him beg, only she was enjoying this a little bit too much. “No,” she lied.

Removing his fingers Malcolm quickly licked them clean with a bit of a groan before he finished undoing his shirt, tossing it aside then pulling down her jeans and knickers, throwing them behind him to join the pile of discarded clothes before he fumbled to remove his own, letting them fall to the foot of the bed, “I’ve missed the way you look when you come,” he growled, his hand moving back between her legs, fingers curling inside her as they had been before, but this time they moved more quickly. “The way your breath catches and your back arches, fucking _art_.” He curled his fingers just a bit more making her gasp, her body twisting away from him for just a second.

“There?” he asked, doing it again and smiling when she did the same thing. “Tell me what you want, darling,” he purred, his fingers working inside her as if it was a reflex. “Tell me what you _need_.”

If he thought she could think he was fucking crazy, she was getting close, but he was right, something was missing, Her hand moved to her breast, as she rolled her nipple between her fingers then tweaked them, groaning at the way that hint of pain felt like electricity between her legs. Before she could carry on though Malcolm’s hand replaced her own, his thumb and forefinger tugged at them gently at first but getting harder until she moaned again.

“That’s it, darling,” he said quietly, leaning over to take her other nipple into his mouth, sucking on it before biting down gently. He felt her tighten around his fingers and did it again, harder this time.

Her back arched and her hand moved into his short hair. “Fuck, Malc.”

He smiled around her nipple, loving the fact she couldn’t even finish his name. He was always Malcolm, but of course he was, what else would he be? He moved his hand faster, his eyes on her even as he alternated between sucking and biting her nipple. She was getting closer, he could see it on her face, the way her lips quirked and parted, the way her breathing became more ragged, and the tension built in her body, not to mention the way she throbbed against his fingers.

“Come on,” he murmured, his thumb gliding against her clit as he fingered her harder and faster. “Come on, darling.”

Two seconds later she was shaking, her back arching off the bed as she cried out, coming all over his hand and the sheets below her. He kept fingering her through it, mouth and hand still on her nipples until he was sure she was done.

“Jesus,” he said, removing his fingers carefully, once again licking them clean as he looked down at the wet spot between her legs. “That’s new.”

Grey was still trying to catch her breath, still occasionally shaking in the aftermath, but she managed to push herself up enough to look at him, and what he was talking about. “Yeah,” she agreed, breathless, “Guess it is.”

“Need a minute to pull yourself back together?” he asked, not even trying to hide his smugness.

She didn’t answer straight away, because the answer was yes but she really didn’t want him to know that, but if they started right now she was pretty sure she’d come again almost instantly and while it didn’t really matter if she did it felt vague wrong, plus she didn’t want to overwhelm herself. “I’m fine,” she lied after a few seconds, slipping her arm over his shoulder to pull him back down closer to her while she glanced down between his legs for a second before turning her attention back to his face. “I mean...I’m ready, if you are.”

“Been ready since I got here, darling,” he admitted, pressing himself against her until she laid back down on the bed, her leg snaking over his hip as he positioned him against her, his eyes on hers as he paused for just a second before pressing into her slowly with a low groan.

“Fuck,.” she muttered, planting her other foot firmly on the bed as she pushed up against him impatiently.

Malcolm smiled slowly down at her as he felt her taking more of him.”Someone’s eager,” he said.

“You complaining?” she asked, pressing up against him again.

“Fuck no,” he admitted, running his hand down over her leg as he shifted to kneel more, her leg sliding up higher against his ribs. He didn’t move for a moment, looking down at her laying there, breathing slowly, her face still slightly flushed from before. “Jesus,” he hissed, as he started to move again, his hand now gripping her hip as he pushed into her fully before pulling back, his gaze razor sharp on her, smiling as he watched her pushing herself up onto her elbows to get closer and reaching up to slip her arms around his shoulder and kiss him as he continued to move against her, his pace slow and measured, letting them both enjoy the feeling for a while before he picked up the pace, the hand at her hip tightening as she clung to him her mouth still on his, messy and desperate as he moved.

“Fuck,” she said against his lips, wrapping her leg around his back as her fingers pressed into it, her teeth catching his lip as her heart sped and she tried to pull him closer against her until their bodies were pressed together close enough to feel his heart beating against her chest. She pulled back gasping for air, her eyes drifting up to his, half closed but still on her. “Malc,” she sighed, as one hand went back into his short hair, combing through and tugging gently as she felt herself getting closer, the muscles between her legs throbbing.

He could feel it, how close she was, the pulsing around him pushing him dangerously close himself as he slid his hand between her legs, finding her clit and rubbing it as best he could even as he thrust into her. As she started to whimper he ducked his head, his teeth grazing her nipple then biting down, his tongue lapping against it as she started to shake, her nails digging into his back as she came around him, pushing him over the edge almost instantly with a cry.

“Fuck,” she muttered, as she eased her hold on him, her head dipping to rest on his shoulder as she kissed the skin under her lips trying to calm down, “Fuck,” she said again as she looked up at him.

Malcolm smiled shakily. pulling out with a hiss of displeasure. “Worth the trip, darling?” he asked.

She tried to laugh but didn’t have enough breath left in her body. “Wouldn’t’ve come otherwise,” she managed.

“Pun intended?” he asked with a smirk.

“Let’s pretend it was, yeah?” she replied as he rolled onto his back beside her. “I’m wittier when I can think straight.”

He laughed, slipping her arm under her and pulling her against him. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

***

As Grey woke up she rolled over, expecting to bump into Malcolm and opening her eyes when she found the bed empty, _again_. “You’re making a habit of this,” she said, hearing the clacking of a keyboard. When she didn’t get a reply she opened her eyes pushing herself upright to check he was actually still there. Malcolm was sitting at the desk typing away as if he was still at the office. “I said you’re making a habit of this,” she repeated a bit louder as she dragged herself out of bed and went over to the desk.

“Malcolm,” she said, standing right next to him, completely naked.

“Hmmm? Sorry, darling. Won’t be too long, but you know, I did warn you,” he said without even glancing at her.

“Guess I thought you were exaggerating,” she admitted. “I’ll just go see to myself then, shall I?”

“Yeah you just...wait, what?” he said, finally stopping what he was doing and looking at her. “ _Fuck_ ,” he breathed, turning in his seat, She was dangerously close to beautiful all fresh faced the morning after. He’d missed that the first time, too worried about waking her up and having to deal with consequences. 

“What?”

“You,” he said, slipping his arm around her and pulling her closer to kiss her for just a second. “Five minutes,” he told her. “Then I’m all yours, for at least an hour.”

“Least an hour, huh? Well isn’t it just my lucky day?” she asked, trying not to sound sarcastic.

“Like I can’t make you come repeatedly in that time?” he asked, raising his eyebrow at her. ”I might be busy but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you what you came here for.”

“Right,” she agreed, nodding a bit, only she wasn’t sure she quite felt it, actually now she wasn’t entirely sure she had just come here for sex. She hadn’t been able to get him off her mind since Eastbourne, and sure she barely knew him, but there was something about him, and it wasn't just how hard he made her come.

“You want me to try typing one handed?” he asked with a smirk, “could be interesting.”

“Five minutes,” she repeated, heading back into bed. “Then I’m starting on my own.”

She’d barely got into bed when Malcolm’s phone rang and he headed into the bathroom to take it.

“I don’t give a flying _fuck_! One weekend, one fucking weekend, that’s all I asked for, not even that. Get someone else to sort it. you hear me? I’m busy... It’s none of your fucking business why. Just plug it til Monday, okay?”

“Fucking waste of oxygen,” he hissed as he came back into the main room, sighing heavily as he got onto the bed with Grey. “We might have to cut this short,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “Should’ve known expecting things to run smoothly was never going to happen, it’s like they fucing _know_...” Shaking his head he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, darling. But you should stay, order room service, drink the mini bar dry, I might be able to come back once I’ve murdered the entire fucking party.”

“I dunno,” she admitted. “Seems like you’ve got a lot on your plate, which makes sense, maybe I shouldn’t’ve come. You told me how busy you were, I shouldn’t’ve pushed it.”

“No, no., no. I’m glad you did. I’m glad you came. Fuck I’m gonna _kill_ Nicola. This is why I can’t have nice things, why I don’t do anything nice for myself cos it always gets fucked up so it’s not worth even trying.”

“You think I’m a nice thing?” she asked, not nearly as offended as she supposed she should have been.

“Maybe,” he admitted, slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her shoulder. “I just wanted one fucking weekend. This _fucking_ job.”

“I should go,” she said, turning her head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we could try again some other time? You get actual time off, right?”

Malcolm scoffed. “In theory, not so much in practice. Maybe if you lived down here…” Fuck he wished she did, he wasn’t sure why but it was just easy with her it was just a shame she lived so far away, cos if she’d been in London, well she’d’ve been perfect friends with benefits material.

“But that’s not gonna happen,” she sighed, laying her hand against his cheek and gently turning him to face her so she could kiss him properly for just a second. “We tried,” she said. “But this was clearly a bad idea. Should’ve listened to you in the first place, never been much good at listening to stuff I don’t wanna hear though. But hey, if you’re ever in Manchester…” she smiled.

“I’ll send you a dick pic and we’ll take it from there, how’s that?”

“Perfect,” she said.

Moving away from the bed he picked up his jacket and started to do it up, never taking his eyes off her. “And next time you’re in London…”

Grey smiled, crawling down the bed to get closer. “You gonna be my booty call, Malcolm?” she asked.

“If you want,” he agreed.


End file.
